


Interlude XXVIII

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [230]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Retirement, Sussex, Trauma, World War I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 08:24:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: Seeing is believing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lyster99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyster99/gifts).



Mrs. God wiped a tear from Her eye.

“That was so beautiful!” She sniffed. “Saying goodbye to the place that once was home to them for all those years, and then heading back to their new home.”

“After having sex in every room in the place!” God grinned. “Mrs. Lindberg will be pleased. Her husband owes her ten bob now!”

“He was stupid to bet against something so predictable!” Mrs. God scoffed. “As if those two could ever keep their hands off of each other. They can have a long and happy retirement, and then come up here to spend some quality time before it starts all over again.”

“Exactly. By the way, where is Sasha?”

The pause before She answered was infinitesimally small, but Supreme Beings notice things like that.

“Oh, just doing a small job for me”, She said airily.

He stared at Her suspiciously. What was She up to?


	2. Chapter 2

_[Begin narration by Mr. Johnson Watson, nephew to a certain pair of uncles who clearly think decorum is a small Roman shopping centre!]_

Looking back to that terrible year, it seems hard to imagine the enthusiasm with with all those young men went to war, many never to return and many more to come back less than whole. People really did believe that it would be all over by Christmas, the poor fools.

In the months before the war, I had my own burden of troubles added to when I lost my job because my bank was taken over. I had, it seemed, been extremely fortunate in that my uncle John for whom I was named had written to me, telling me that there was an opening at a branch in the town of Cuckfield not far from where he lived with Uncle Sherlock, and I might apply there. Perhaps I should not have derided the 'over by Christmas' brigade so severely after all; it took far too many months before I realized that Uncle Sherlock had engineered the whole thing, including securing an offer for my old house that was well above its true value, and finding me a new house within walking distance of my new place of employment that was ideal for my family. I was just grateful to be away from London, and to be able to put Emmeline and her terrible betrayal behind me.

Despite my dislike of violence, I felt compelled to sign up for the war effort, which led to a rather curious incident involving my helpful relatives. My mother and father were of course horrified at my decision, and I was relieved if not surprised that my uncles accepted it (although when Uncle John said that Uncle Sherlock had 'won him round', I threatened to disown them both if they started providing me with details. I knew them too well!).

After seeing the disreputable pair, I had to report to the testing centre at Hayward's Heath for a preliminary medical examination. Since I was early, I went into a small restaurant and had a coffee – and there was a gentleman sat at a table nearby who was the spitting image of my Uncle Sherlock, right down to that terrible long coat of his! Although unless the latter had grown wings and flown there before me, it had to be someone else. I tried to avoid staring, and fortunately he soon left. 

I was then most surprised to be refused entry to the army because of an eyesight problem. I had always thought my vision near-perfect, but apparently I had a rare condition such that the sight in my left eye might worsen suddenly without warning. It was a bitter disappointment, but I volunteered to do what I could on the Home Front. I later mentioned the doppelganger to Uncle Sherlock, and he looked across at Uncle John in a strange way (thankfully though, not _that_ way or I would have set a world record in sprinting for safety!). All in all, I was lucky to have such relatives. 

Even if, far too often, I had to wait outside their cottage whilst.... well, you know.

_Yes you do!_

_[End narration by Mr. Johnson Watson, most definitely blessed in his allocation of relatives, and his possession of a pair of quality earmuffs!]_


End file.
